Death from Above 1
by Cody Heitman
Summary: Tom Hansen is an American paratrooper making his first combat jump. It is June 6, 1944, and he will soon have to prove himself as a soldier.


**Death from Above**

Part One

Cody Heitman

Looking out of the open door, Tom could see the invasion fleet through a break in the clouds. He couldn't believe it was so big. It was almost like he could step out of the plane and walk the rest of the way. "Glad I'm not on a boat" he thought to him self. That's why Tom had joined the paratroops. He wanted to go into combat with the best, and in style. That, and the extra 50 bucks a month didn't hurt either. The training was tough, but it was worth it. They had been turned into the best the army had. And now, they would get a chance to prove it. Soon the ships disappeared into the darkness of the black water. Nothing but emptiness was left. The only thing to look at now was the other men packed inside the C-47, and listen to the slow drone of the engine.

Soon the deep abyss of the Channel was replaced by the stark contrast of the French coast. That's when then calm started to fall apart. As Tom leaned forward to light another mans cigarette; the plane was rocked by a large explosion. A German flak round went of just under the left wing, throwing Tom out of his seat, and into the man in front of him. As he tried to correct himself, more anti-aircraft shell came up. The sky had burst into flames. Metal shards were slamming into the aircraft. It was as if the plane was now an old truck, speeding down a gravel road. The hot metal rattled down the side of the plane, as it tore forward toward the drop zone. Just as Tom finally got back on his feet and steadied himself on the side of plane, the red light came on. This meant he had to get the men ready to jump. "Get ready!" he yelled. "Stand up!" with that all 12 men in the plane stood up. "Hook up!", each man hooked his static line up to the plane. "Check Equipment!", Tom turned around so the man behind him could check his chute. When the check was done tom grabbed the side of the open door. The flak was still very heavy, and the plane was being thrown around. Each man struggled to keep himself up right. "I can't spot the DZ!" the pilot yelled back from the cockpit. "We're going to fast, if we jump like this will be scattered all to hell!" Tom called back. Just then a piece of shrapnel tore its way into the port engine. Smoke poured into the tail section through the open door. The aircraft began to list to the left in a slow dip. The copilot leaned through the walkway, fastening the buckles on his own parachute. "You guys gotta get the hell outta here, she won't stay up much longer." he said to Tom. Just then the pilot flipped on the green jump light. Tom turned to the line of men and yelled "GO! GO! GO!". The men filed out of the plane, falling into the darkness. when the last man was out, Tom stepped up to the door and threw himself out into the darkness.

Tom pulled his risers to slow the chute as it neared the ground. He landed in a field of high grass. He slumped onto the ground as the large shroud of the parachute began to cover him. He dug his way out of the fabric that was blanketing him and began to recover his equipment. As he pulled himself out of his harness, he realized that his leg bag, that contained most of his equipment, had been torn from his leg. All he had on him was his cartridge belt, with his canteen and Colt .45, and his M-1 Garand, which was luckily not in his leg bag. Tom rose to his feet, M-1 in hand, and moved toward a large wall of hedges the stood on the edge of the field, He took cover near the bottom of the hedge and looked around. Although it was dark, there was a great deal of moonlight. This made it easier to see. He couldn't see anyone. He hadn't landed near any of his men. Tom started a low, crouching walk toward a large stand of trees that lay at the northern end of the hedgerow. He moved through the woods, trying to find someone to link up with. He knew if he headed north he would run into someone sooner or later. After moving trough the woods, he came across a small dirt road. He started to follow the road, staying off to the side to avoid being spotted by the Germans. As Tom moved down the road, he heard the sound of running water. He came up to a large stone bridge that spanned a small river. He dropped down into a ditch that ran up to the bridge. As he moved up to the side of the bridge, a voice called out behind him. "Flash", Tom snapped his head back. "Thunder!", he replied. Another paratrooper crawled out of the woods into the ditch with him. "Howdy", the man said. "Who are you?" Tom replied to the young man. "My names Graves, Pvt. Allen Graves." he said. The patch on the mans field jacket told Tom that Graves was in the 82nd Airborne. "82nd? What the hell are you doing here?" Tom whispered to him. "You 101?" he replied. "Yeah, guess this means one of us landed in the wrong spot." Tom said. "Ok Private, you follow me". The two men continued to move down the road.


End file.
